


The Dawn

by Crouvan



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, M/M, Post-Canon, a really tiny wee little bit of angst ok, basically just crowley being his not-actually-that-cool-and-suave-self that he pretends to be, but like, conscious overuse of the word ineffable, ineffable husbands, more tags added with later chapters, oneshots, proposal, theyre both idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 11:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18342773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crouvan/pseuds/Crouvan
Summary: A collection of oneshots I wrote about these seriously ineffable husbands (trademark) and finally decided to post in celebration of the series coming close - or it will be a collection once this first story is well received and people actually want to see more of it *cough* (will probably add illustrations later, since that is my actual forte)





	The Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go: first chapter clears up how they became ACTUAL husbands ;)
> 
> English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance.

“And I tell you, she has not been that sad before we left, angel. We’ve been gone for too long, I knew it.”

“You’ve been alone with nothing but plants for too long, that is the only problem we have here, my dear. And _sad_? We’re talking about a _cactus_! The only emotion it can probably look like is… _anger_ with its spindly, evil pricky-stab-thingies. And come on, we haven’t even been gone for long. You only say that because you hate those kind of social things and needed a reason for us to go home sooner.”

Crowley shut the door of his rather newly acquired Aston Martin V8 with a frown (it wasn’t his old Bentley, of course, but it had also been a Bond car once, so he relented and was actually starting to get rather warm towards it). He stood there for a moment, studied the further-mentioned cactus that decorated their front lawn incredulously and grimaced.

Facing Aziraphale he said: “She heard that. Now she’s also insulted.”

Aziraphale, who was already on the path to their front door & had been busy rummaging through his pockets in search of the key, rolled his eyes extensively before he turned back around and the demon could see it.

Facing Crowley he put a reassuringly smile on and made sure to make an effort to give the plant in question a scrutinizing and _empathetic_ look before he exclaimed: “Okay. There! See? Nothing wrong. It looks just the same as it did before we left, my dear. I’m sure of it. Not a leaf out of place.”

“That’s because she doesn’t _have_ leaves!,” Crowley called out. “But she has a bud. And it only blooms once every few years. And only if she feels good enough!”

“Well the bud is still there and with how much more you apparently care about that thing than me, it will sure feel fine enough,” the angel replied with finality. Having finally found the key he turned back to the door and opened it.

Crowley bristled and looked scandalized from the retrieving angel to the plant and back to the open and now empty door again.

He shook his head, huffed and marched after the angel into their little cottage, already trying to come up with more valid points to throw in Aziraphales face. No way the angel could have the last word. Nuh uh. (Especially not, if the topic in question was _Crowley’s plants_! Where would we be?)

Well, to be precise, dear reader, right now, we’re looking at a little cottage somewhere on the South Downs in Sussex. Very old, but not run down. It was rather well kept actually. The front lawn was overflowing with rigorously stuffed plant pots in all sizes and vegetation of any kind (it was still nothing compared to the backyard, though). On first glance it may have looked like chaos. But looking closely you will notice, it is a well thought out, artificially constructed chaos to compose the perfect picture of one of those charmingly rustic cottages on the front page of those “comfortable vacation in the countryside” catalogues.

Aziraphale likes to take complete credit for the house and it’s interior, but really, the whole _setting_? All thanks to Crowley’s green thump, you’re welcome.

It’s been a few years since that busted Armaged _didn’t_. Neither side had really known how to continue afterwards or what the future was holding now (since there wasn’t supposed to _be_ a future). So for the time being, everyone more or less came to the silent agreement to just keep on going as if nothing happened. Heaven and Hell were back to co-existing and simply trying to balance each other out. Just making sure the other side didn’t get the upper hand, is all.

And Crowley and Aziraphale?

Well, they’ve been scared shitless at first, to be quite frank. Both were fearing the worst from their respective superiors for being the main reason everything failed. Scarcely surviving the Apocalypse only to be discorporated (and worse) as punishment afterwards would have been just their luck.

But strangely, nothing happened. No one came looking for them. Not even a message after they hesitantly started using televisions and radios again. It was as if nothing happened and no one even knew they had been involved (or responsible) in the whole incident.

No. It was more than that.

It was as if no one remembered them _at all_. None of their respective sides seem to miss them or even knew they still (or _ever_ ) existed.

They came to the conclusion that Adam might have not only wiped out _humanities_ terrified memories of their almost end, but also cleaned the minds of their higher ups (or down ups, in Hell’s case, I guess).

Needles to say, they were able to live rather peacefully and to the fullest ever since. They were still Aziraphale and Crowley, an angel and a demon. And being immortal ethereal creatures living in a gullible, mortal world definitely came with it’s perks, especially now that no one was breathing down their necks anymore.

Especially considering them being _together_ together now.

Yeah, that happened. It had been a long time coming, really. But that is a different story.

Today is actually about the next step in their relationship. (Not _that_ , you perverts! That already happened. And gets repeated quite frequently. No, believe it or not: the demon wanted to put a ring on it.)

And yes, Crowley had planned it all out already.

The problem is just, that he had planned it in a million different ways and tons of variations that were set to even more occasions and still: None of them were _perfect_ or _just right_ and whoa, why did he not think of _that_? And then he usually started to panic and doubt everything and just forget about it, because there’s no way they’d actually do it, right? Ridiculous. Or would Zira even say yes? Why would he? Oh my god what if he says no?? WHAT IF…. Yeah. Exactly. Better to just forget about everything.

Until there would come a moment where Aziraphale would say something ridiculously _stupid_ or look at Crowley like _that_ again or worse; when he did that thing with his nose when he read a particularly controversial paragraph.

Then the thought was there once more. It would struck Crowly like lightning, burn through his whole body, keep his hairs standing and leave the only possible thought: _I want to marry him._

Hell – or Heaven - if you’d ask their neighbors (or really _anyone_ who ever saw them even once) they already were an old married couple.

So why was this still so difficult?

Crowley had been close a few times. He already had a perfect ring that he started to always carry with him, just in case, for God’s – for _anyone’s_ sake. (Oh, and trust me, that ring “purchase” alone makes a good story, too.)

But today he was far from it for once. Pfft. A Wedding really was the last of his thoughts today.

They had been arguing quite a lot over the whole day. Crowley had been in a mood anyway. And then one of Aziraphale’s damned rescued kittens dared to urinate at the foot of Crowley’s aforementioned cactus, which is currently very delicate since it was pregnant with it’s very first bud, okay.

Needless to say that this little incident did nothing to improve Crowley’s mood.

And then Aziraphale had that _thing_ tonight. A _social_ thing, of all things. That required _socializing_. Ugh.

Usually Aziraphale was as against of these kinds of events as Crowley but the one today was some kind of gathering for booksellers and antique dealers especially in some kind of gallery to exchange tips and information and maybe one or two rare copies of an even rarer artifact he had kept an eye on for a few years. And they apparently served sushi.

So yeah, _of course_ Aziraphale wanted to be there. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if Crowley wouldn’t have promised him to be his plus one a few weeks ago.

Aziraphale, the incomprehensible idiot, wanted him to go even after the day they’ve already had. Can you believe that? Ineffable. All Crowley wanted to do was curl up in bed, glare daggers at the angel and unwillingly cuddle with one of the kittens. (He still hates them, of course, but they do not exactly give you a choice and hey, they were warm – and their fur was just as fluffy as the angel’s hair but psssssht. That’s another thing Crowley would never admit out loud. ~~Of course, Aziraphale knew about it anyway.~~ )

So here they were now: Arguing even worse than before, Day completely ruined and as good as over considering the sunset happening behind them right now.

Oh, but not completely lost, yet.

Crowley would make sure to win this argument at least.

He huffed again and resolutely squared his shoulders. The demon marched after the angel with determination and waltzed into the small hallway. He took a breath to unleash his invincible array of reasons and –

And stopped short.

There stood his angel. In the small hallway of their cozy cottage. Halfway barefeet already, still mumbling about Crowley and his antics in fond irritation, eyebrows halfheartedly twisted in a frown, but mouth smiling softly, while looking down to these cursed furballs who greeted him eagerly, meowing impatiently since dinner was so late. The setting sun shining through the still ajar doorway dyed everything in a warm glowing gold.

Crowley’s breath hitched at the sight.

No one could ever look more _angelic_ no matter how hard they tried.

And all of a sudden it clicked. Crowley just knew.

This is it.

It's by far not the grand scheme he imagined or the setting he had in mind. It was nothing like anything he ever thought of at all. Absolutely _nothing_ about this or today was perfect – but maybe that was exactly the reason why it was, in fact, perfect.

Despite all these imperfections and flaws, he undoubtedly loved this angel with all of his heart. Aziraphale was the love of his life. No matter what.

Before he could overthink things again or even really realize what he was doing, Crowley was already getting down on one knee and fumbled around in the back pockets of his jeans to get the ring out.

“–“, he tried to call out, but his throat was too dry. He coughed and tried again.

“Aziraphale, my angel.”

The addressed turned around and came to a sudden halt. There the demon was, down on one knee, one hand outstretched and holding a suspiciously shaped, heavily glinting silver object. In his eyes was pure determination, but also a very rare vulnerability. Aziraphales mouth dropped opened without a sound.

"Aziraphale, will you… err…”, Crowley started. He looked down and closed his eyes, trying to summon his gits. Things got real suddenly, and it was finally catching up to him. It was too late to back out now.

Meanwhile Aziraphales flabbergasted surprise turned into hopefull excitement as recognition dawned on him. Still confused he asked:

"Crowley, are you...?"

"Look", Crowley interrupted quickly, now getting continuously more nervous by the second and feeling one of his existential anxiety attacks coming – that he still denied he has because he's _cool_ , okay, thank you very much. But he really wanted this. He had never been so sure of something in all his millennials of life. And he needs to tell his angel right now. Or he never will, probably.

"I know our folks don't really do this kind of thing and... oh heck, especially NOT TO EACH OTHER WHAT THE HELL AM I THINKING...", Crowley once again took a short breath to unsuccessfully try to calm himself and rushed on: "I just... I thought, it would be a nice thing to do and... A nice gesture… or… something… We've been living with humans for so long... lived _like_ humans... And they do that all the time and they're so stupidly happy and pride of all their ‘to eternity’-vows which is ridiculous since they'll never even remotely know what that even is, but _we_ do... We do, and we could actually..."

By now Crowley's more and more nervous speech got so rushed he tumbled over the words. His hands, now tightly holding on to Aziraphale’s, trembled.

The angel looked down at the demon at his feet that still squeezed his eyes shut in concentration. Too bad, because if he would open them, he would see the incredible amount of love pouring out of the angel’s orbs right now, which would probably calm him down somewhat.

Aziraphale’s surprised puzzlement had quickly morphed into affectionate exasperation. Crowley really was doing, what he thought he was doing and he couldn't believe it. He was absolutely adorable. (Not a word usually used to describe demons, but if you could see this specific specimen right now, you would agree. Or maybe raise a patronizing eyebrow and shake your head about this shameful remainder of said creature - if you're a demon yourself.)

"We don't actually have to do something, I just wanted you to know that... Uugh... No, wait, that's not true... Look, I actually really _want_ to... "

"Yes", said the angel, being the one to interrupt this time.

It was about time to put the demon out of his misery.

"Yes, I want to marry you", he said and squeezed Crowley's still trembling hands reassuringly.

Unblinking and unbelieving Crowley rose to a stand on shaking knees, threatening to give out at any moment.

His eyes finally met Aziraphale’s and there was not even a slither of doubt in the amount of love pouring out of them.

How the hell – or heaven, sorry – could Crowley ever have any doubt about this?

"I love you", the angel added softly as good measure.

And then they kissed. It was like coming home all over again.

As they parted a few moments later (or a few centuries, who counts? They certainly didn't, as they were rather preoccupied) they both had tears running down their cheeks – although the demon will forever deny such a thing. It was simply the angel's tears that got rubbed off on him. Tch.)

They smiled lovingly at each other. Crowley's a little crooked, a bit of his cool-ier smirk finally returning.

He took Aziraphale’s hands again after untangling from him (not like he had clung to him or anything *cough* except that he totally did *cough* It was the snake in him, he would defend himself).

He raised one of his angel's hands and finally put the ring he had carefully chosen just for this occasion on one of his fingers.

Aziraphale watched him mesmerized. The shine in his eyes was rivaling that of the huge gem in the ornate ring.

A... very familiar ring. A ring Aziraphale had gushed over decades ago when he saw it being put on Lady Di and then again not too long ago when it was put on Kate Middleton (call him nostalgic, but he loved that little royal business in these modern days).He had also seen this ring during a visit to the special time limited exhibition in the Tower of London last month that he had visited with a certain demon…

"Crowley", Aziraphale said slowly. "Is that...?"

"Don't worry", Crowley hushed him and kissed his knuckles charmingly. "It's just a _really_ good copy that I knew you would like." He winked.

If possible, Aziraphale's look of love got even warmer and he raised the now preciously adorned hand around Crowley's neck to pull him impossibly closer.

"Or maybe, _they_ have a really good copy now and no-one will ever be the wiser", Crowley mumbled conspirationally.

Aziraphale laughed loud and clear as an orchestra of small jingle bells, his fingers digged into the demon's unruly locks (carefully disheveled is what it’s called these days – looks like he just sexily rolled out of bed but actually takes Crowley at least an hour in front of a mirror).

The angel looked at his demon again. Immensely exasperated, but not a bit less lovingly. Truly ineffable.

"I love you", he said.

The demon's trademark smirk was now full back in place, but his slotted, yellow eyes shined as warm and comforting as the sun on their backs. Crowley raised his hand to gently stroke the Angel's cheek and replied with the same conviction:

"I love _you_ , my angel."

They met in a fierce kiss again. Getting even more lost in passion than before. Pouring every emotion and feeling in it that none of them could ever form into words (or willingly would). And why should they? They were centuries past the point of needing words. (And to be honest, at this point, even a mere and _blind_ mortal could see their love. These ineffable idiots.)

And as they stood – long afterwards but still embracing – halfway between hallway and living room of their still unlit little home, the moon started to rise higher in the night sky. It's silver light reflected in twinkles from the many gems in the professionally copied royal engagement ring (or the real one, who knows?) and danced on the walls around the two ethereal beings that where so tightly entangled they could as well have only been one.

…

Suddenly Crowley had a thought: "Not in a church with those damn blessing priests, though! It has to be a registry office event or something because I actually want to survive & savor it. The whole eternity thing, you know."

Aziraphale just chuckled and buried his nose deeper into Crowley's neck, squeezing his _fiancé_ (!!!) a little tighter.

No way the demon will ever get out of this now. Church wedding or not.

**Author's Note:**

> That cottage on the South Downs where they live their "ever after" together now? Yeah, that's canon and got confirmed back then by both Terry & Neil. And after I stopped crying I had to write a story about it, so here's that *shrugs*
> 
> I may consider taking prompts, btw, if anyone's interested.


End file.
